Fate is Inevitable
by HellsAngelJCV
Summary: Ron Weasley has always been in the shadows, but what happens when there's no one to stand in the shadows of? Sometimes things are just meant to happen... RD SLASH. CHAPTER TWO UPLOADED!
1. Chapter One

_**Summary:** Ron Weasley has always been left out, and the times he's been included he was always in the background. He needs an escape, and the perfect escape has been sneering at him for the past 6 years. The maliciously beautiful and manipulative Draco Malfoy will be the one to bring Ron out of his blind stupor, and Ron realizes that maybe having a simple life in the background wasn't such a bad idea after all.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I own the plot... but all the characters, places, creatures, and items belong to J.K. Rowling.  
**Notes:** Give credit to Placebo for this fanfic, because their songs definitely inspired me to write it. :)_

It was the first day back to Hogwarts. He had just gotten off the Hogwarts express and already Draco wanted to leave. This was his last year, he'd just turned seventeen two weeks ago and he was eager to get out into the world.

'_No,' _he told himself inwardly. _'Don't start pining for freedom yet, you still have an entire year at this dump to go.' _He scowled to himself. One more year of learning how to defend the Dark Arts, when he had just recently taken the Mark and accepted his role as a Death Eater; one more year of Dumbledore and his little anti-Voldemort army of Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers. And most abysmally: one more year of having to deal with the existence of the dream team.

As if on cue, he heard shrill giggles accompanied by more hysterical laughter. Draco looked to his right, scanning the crowd for Weasley and Granger, whose laughter had become annoyingly familiar over the years. They were obviously making something Potter said seem more unnecessarily funny than they needed to, and Draco normally would use this as his excuse to start picking on them. That usually shut them up.

However, before he could see a flash of red hair, he saw something completely horrendous. The carriages that carried them up to the castle every year suddenly weren't being drawn by invisible horses, but completely visible ones. But, Draco mused, these were hardly horses. Dark, brooding and skeletal, the 'horses' waited silently for the students to board the carriages. They had red eyes and large bat-like wings.

'_I must be seeing things,'_ Draco thought frantically, observing how no one else seemed to notice these hideous creatures. He slowly made his way toward the carriages, slightly untrusting of these new beasts. _'I bet this was Hagrid's doing... the big oaf probably thought they were cute.'_

"What's the matter, Malfoy? You look like you've seen a troll."

Draco turned around and found himself staring at Weasley's shirt collar. He looked up, scowling at the red-head. "Doesn't seem to be a troll around, does there, Weasel? If I were you, I'd get my eyes checked because the only thing I can think of that you could possibly mistake for a troll is Hagrid, and he's already left with the first years," Draco growled.

Weasley raised an eyebrow at him, looked to his right at Potter, back to Draco, and then contorted his face into a scowl. "Gods, Malfoy, I didn't think you were that thick to take me seriously. I meant you look too pale to be legal and I felt I should be the one to make the first insult of the year this time around."

"Well, looks like you failed, as I don't really count telling me I look scared as an insult," Draco said smugly, taking note of the irked expressions on Potter and Granger's faces.

"I guess I should've said something more like 'Wow, Malfoy, you're looking awfully pale today. Mind telling me where the werewolves, trolls, hippogriffs, countless other beasts, or teachers with rolling eyes are? I don't see any...'" Weasley said, smiling. Draco hated when he smiled, especially when he was obviously mocking him with it. "So, why _did_ you look like you were going nutters?"

"Why should I tell you?" Draco said icily. "I'm not stupid; I know you're just trying to find a new reason to get to me. Nice try, Weasley, but no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to get as much dirt on me as I can get on you," He smiled evilly up at the red-head. "Honestly, just by looking at you anyone could tell that you're poor, unruly, forced to wear disgusting amounts of battered hand-me-downs probably from generations ago. Upon meeting your family, they'd almost feel sorry for you... living in a misshapen box for a house, having a porky mother and a Muggle-loving fool for a father. Now that I think about it, _I _should even feel sorry for you, if it weren't for the fact that you're also a meddlesome twit."

By this point, Weasley's face was beet red and he looked absolutely furious. Potter and Granger were trying to hold him back, looking quite constipated from the physical exertion. Weasley, unfortunately for Draco, was a lot stronger than the two of them and before he knew it, he was shoved against the door of a carriage. Weasley had his palms on the carriage door on either side of Draco and looked ready to kill.

"I'm _not_ taking any crap from you this year, Malfoy. If you talk about my family like that again, your scrawny little neck will be snapped before you can say 'I'm a bullying prick and I deserve to die', is that clear?" the red-head growled.

"Crystal," Draco said in a mocking voice that was laced with sugar. He ducked under Weasley's arm and almost bumped into one of the horse things. His eyes widened and he stepped carefully around it, hoping it hadn't noticed him there, and continued on his way.

By the time the sorting was over and the plates on the tables were filled with food, Draco was about ready to pull out his hair. He kept feeling like people were watching him, like they _knew. _Like they assumed he got it, or could see right through his sleeve to the burned skin underneath it.

His hand went to his arm, trying to block prying eyes from seeing what he subconsciously knew they couldn't. If they could see through a sleeve, they surely wouldn't be able to see through flesh and bone, right? Clutching his arm, he could faintly feel the outline of the skull on his arm. He traced the serpent's head with his thumb and wondered exactly how much it burned when the Dark Lord called them. He hoped it didn't burn nearly as much as it had when he'd gotten it.

As everyone around him was shoveling food into their mouths, Draco hadn't even put food on his plate. He was too distracted by Dumbledore. Did he know? '_That old codger doesn't know anything,' _Draco reassured himself. Wait, did the old bat's eyes just linger on him a second longer than necessary? Draco shuddered. As much as he hated the Headmaster, there was no doubt that he had an eerie way of seemingly seeing right through a person. It was uncomfortable.

Draco shifted in his seat and bit his lip, too paranoid to allow his hand to leave his arm for even a second. His stomach was growling but somehow he didn't feel hungry. His gaze drifted over to the Gryffindor table, where the golden trio was happily enjoying their meal and trying their best to make the new first years at home. _'Well_, _at least they don't seem to know anything... in fact, probably no one does. None of them know a thing.'_

That was exactly it. No one _did_ know. None of them expected a student to get the mark, he knew for a fact he was the first in his year to get the mark. His father had told him so. Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott... none of them had gotten it yet. Chances were, for safety reasons, not even they knew he'd gotten it.

But still... Draco kept getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach every time his gaze brushed past the staff table.

"Draco?" he heard Pansy say from two seats down. He jerked out of his thoughts and looked at her, as if just realizing she was there. "Umm... you haven't touched any food yet, are you hungry?"

She nudged the bowl of mashed potatoes toward him, as if encouraging him to take some. Leave it to Pansy to take it upon herself to mother him. She always badgered him to eat more, ever since their first year. Once Pansy Parkinson decided you needed to it, it was impossible to get around it.

"Not really, thanks, I ate a lot on the train," Draco lied, smiling. Honestly, he was worried that if he took even one bite he'd vomit. Imagining how embarrassing that would be, he decided not to risk it. Pansy seemed to take the bait and went back to talking to Millicent.

The moment she turned away Draco felt Dumbledore's eyes on him again. He tried not to look at the old Headmaster, and instead focused on studying the intricate designs on his plate. Funny, he'd never noticed them before now.

'_Fuck them,' _He told himself. _'Even if they do know, which they don't, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway. Expel me, maybe, but other than that... Besides, how would they know? I never said anything.'_

Draco knew he was always one to flaunt everything, making sure everyone within a 5 mile radius knew that he got something first, or that he knew something first, or if he did something first. But there was a line between showing off your new broomstick and showing the world your Dark Mark. Draco knew this, he'd always been taught that there were some things that were simply taboo to talk about out in the open. And he'd always known what his father was referring to when he told Draco all this.

Draco had slipped, of course, a couple of times. It takes a great deal of practice to keep a naturally loud mouth shut. His father had punished him for slipping up, of course. It was Lucius's philosophy that the harder the punishment, the more the punished would remember what they did wrong. It worked, obviously.

The Cruciatus Curse was used in the Death Eater initiation program while each member got the Mark. While Voldemort burned the Mark into his skin, a Death Eater used Crucio to distract him from the pain. Draco never imagined there would be a pain worse than having the Cruciatus Curse put on, but getting the Mark was definitely worse.

But his father had been proud. Actually _told him _how proud he was of Draco, and no amount of pain could take away how good that felt. Lucius had never one, in Draco's entire existence, told him he was proud of him. Not when he placed second in the year, not when he one the Quidditch final against Gryffindor last year, never. Before then, his parents had generally ignored him and left him to his own devices and a house elf to take care of him. He really only ever spoke to them at dinner, and spent time with his father when Lucius was pushing his beliefs on his son.

But now everything was different. He was officially a worthy Malfoy.

That night, the dormitory was relatively quiet. Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise were all sleeping. The only sounds in the room were Goyle's obnoxious snores, Crabbe's less obnoxious snores, and the sound of a quill on parchment. Draco peered around his curtains to the bed next to his, and saw that Theodore was up and scribbling frantically on parchment by the light of his wand.

"What're you doing?" He whispered. "You're being loud." _'And some of us are trying to sleep,'_ he added to himself. He'd never be rude to Theodore Nott, as he was just as rich and just as pure-blooded as he was.

Theodore looked up and half-smiled at Draco. "Finishing homework. I completely forgot that Sinistra gave us homework for the summer. An essay: 'Explain in detail reasons why you believe (or disbelieve) that astrology effects a human's personality'," He said, shaking his head solemnly and turning back to his essay. "Crazy old bat, giving us an essay like this. I bet I'm the only one in the class who actually likes astrology,"

"Don't see why you're taking that class anyway. It's not exactly a prominent skill in most careers. To look at planets, I mean," Draco said, racking his brain for any careers where astronomy would come in handy.

"It ties in directly with Divination."

"Oh," Draco said, mentally slapping himself for being so clueless. "You want to be a Seer?"

"Yes, although Trelawney hates me. Mostly because I correct her on the things she talks about," Theodore responded smugly. "I can See better than she can."

Draco nodded, although he wasn't sure if Theodore could see him in the dark. He supposed the light from Nott's wand might be bright enough to illuminate his face though.

He turned back to the air he was staring at before and zoned out into his own thoughts again. He absent-mindedly let his fingers start tracing the Mark, brushing them across the fabric of his shirt sleeve, he'd found himself doing this a lot since he got it. He figured it was some kind of morbid curiosity, as if he was waiting for it to burn again, and dreading it at the same time.

"You let your hair grow out," he heard from Theodore's bed. He looked at the boy, dumbfounded, to find him staring intently at him.

"What?" he said stupidly. Then he realized what Theodore was talking about. He had let his hair grow over the summer, even though it completely slipped his mind since he got the Mark. "Oh... yeah, I did."

"It looks good," Theodore said quickly, turning away almost as fast.

Draco paused for a moment. It just occurred to him that Theodore was the first person to say anything about his hair, unless he hadn't been listening. It was hardly unnoticeable, considering it was a good two inches longer than when he left at the end of sixth year. It now fell just below his ears and kept falling into his face whenever he moved his head.

"Thanks," he finally said, now wondering if Theodore has noticed him touching his arm when he was watching him. After a moment, he laid back and tried to go to sleep again.

The next morning, Draco was woken up why a very urgent female voice at the dormitory door.

"Greg, let me in! I need to talk to Draco!" Pansy was saying in an anxious whisper, obviously thinking Draco couldn't hear her.

"He's sleeping," Goyle said dumbly as Crabbe nodded.

Draco tried to lie still, pretending to be asleep. Whatever Pansy wanted to talk about, he guessed it had something to do with his introverted attitude at the welcoming feast last night, and he really didn't want to talk about it.

Pansy sighed, exasperated. "No, he's not."

How did she know that?

"Let her in, guys," Draco muttered from his bed. "Then leave."

Goyle moved aside, and Pansy walked in looking very proud of herself. The two gorillas left without another word, although Draco could've sworn he heard a grunt or two, and Pansy laid down next to him.

She stared at him for a moment before talking. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Draco said, probably more quickly, and more loudly, than was really necessary.

"I think you've been hanging around Crabbe and Goyle too much, Draco, because you seem to be under the impression that I'm stupid," She said, her eyes narrowing. "You didn't eat at all last night, and I could tell from your face that you didn't eat on the train and probably not for the past few days. You have circles under your eyes. You weren't talking and you looked worried about something. You're paler than usual, and your lips are chapped. You can't even begin to tell me nothing's wrong, Draco, because I know you and I know there is."

'_Damn it, why does she have to pick up on these things so easily?'_ Draco thought angrily.

"Even if there was something wrong, I wouldn't want to talk about it," he said grumpily and got off the bed.

Pansy sat up and glared at him. "Draco, you know you'll have to talk to me sooner or later."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Draco!" she said angrily. He half expected her to say 'don't take that tone with me, young man' along with it. "You always tell me what's on your mind. I'm hurt that you wont this time. What, are you too good for friends now?"

"God, Pansy!" Draco snapped at her. "If you know me so well, why can't you realize the 'pity me' act isn't going to work! You're not going to guilt trip me into spilling my heart out to you. If you REALLY want me to eat, I'll come to the great hall with you and you can watch me eat breakfast, alright?"

She looked appalled. "Fine, Draco, be that way. If you honestly don't care whether or not anyone cares about you, then go ahead be a prick. But when you're on the streets in the middle of Muggle London and the only thing you can do is whore yourself to middle aged business men, don't come crying to me!" She shrieked at him and stomped out of the room in a very dramatized and angry performance.

At breakfast Pansy didn't make eye contact with him, but he felt her watching him eat. They received their schedules in the middle of the meal, and Draco was very displeased to find that they had potions with the Gryffindors again.

"God damn it," he mumbled. "Every fucking year, even when we're passed the N.E.W.T's."

"This is the last year, though," said Blaise Zabini from his right, obviously understanding what Draco was mad about. "Besides, it is rather funny to see Snape pick on them."

"You just like seeing them because you have a thing for Granger," Draco sneered. Blaise looked defiant, but ended up breaking his gaze in embarrassment. "I for one, don't like them taking up my breathing room."

He suddenly found himself thinking of having to share a small confined space with Weasley, and Weasley breathing as much as possible to watch Draco suffocate.

"Whatever," Blaise said. "Some of us don't dedicate our lives to obsessively picking on the same three people, that's all I'm saying."

Draco scowled. "I don't _obsessively _pick on them. And I definitely don't dedicate my life to them. Far from it, actually."

Blaise smirked. "Right."

On the way down to the Potions classroom, Draco couldn't help falling into deep thought again. What if Potter knew? He always seemed to know. Draco didn't know how he managed it, but he always seemed to be laden with information about things that were supposed to be private. He was positive Dumbledore fed him all this information; or perhaps they fed it to each other.

Class went by uneventfully enough. Longbottom managed to melt his cauldron on the first day, probably a new record for him. Draco didn't understand why he'd still take this class if he knew he was so bad at it.

At the end of the class, however, Draco left the room to find the Golden Trio fighting. Or rather, Potter and Weasley. He immediately backed into the shadows the dungeons provided, and tried to blend into the wall as much as he could.

"Ron, it's your own fault for waiting so long!" Potter yelled. "I _need _this! I need something to take my mind off of Voldemort!"

"More like you _need_ to take Hermione from me when you _know _how I feel about her!" Weasley yelled back, his voice rising steadily with each word.

"YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU LIKED HER!"

"I THOUGHT IT WAS OBVIOUS!"

Weasley then proceeded to punch Potter in the face, which came as quite a shock to Draco. It seemed to shock Potter too, as he stared at Weasley open-mouthed for what seemed like hours, even through a heavily bleeding nose. Eventually, he scrunched his face into an angry, maybe even hurt, look and walked off to the infirmary.

"So," Draco said, smirking. "The Golden trio finally breaks up... and over Granger. Not unexpected, but it's a rather trivial thing to fight about."

He stepped out of the shadows to meet Weasley's enraged face.

"You!"

"Wow, Weasley, you recognized me! I'm glad for you; although I'm afraid you might not be able to recognize Granger after Potter manages to get her chastity belt off."

"SHUT UP!" Weasley shrieked. Draco didn't think he'd ever seen Weasley this angry.

And despite this new realization, Draco's smile brightened. "So what happened? Did you catch them snogging? Or did Potter do the noble thing and hold you back to break it to you?"

"Shut UP, Malfoy!"

"I don't see why you thought you'd ever get the girl before Potter... he always gets everything before you, doesn't he? And he always gets better things, am I right? Besides, anyone in their right mind would choose just about anything over you."

Draco didn't have time to realize he'd gone too far before he was pinned against the wall. His eyes shone with malice as Weasley's face became redder and redder. It was clear he was so mad that he didn't even know how to react to anything.

"You... you don't know anything! You're just a spoiled little brat with jealousy issues! You need to get over yourself and realize that maybe other people have feelings too! You... don't realize... that... that anyone in their right mind would choose anything over you as well! Who would ever want to be with someone so... EVIL!"

Draco frowned. "Let go of me."

"Can't think of anything clever to say to that, Malfoy? You know it's true, don't you? Is Daddy's little boy finally realizing no one loves him? Not even Daddy?"

"LET GO OF ME!" Draco shrieked. It wasn't that he knew it was true... because it wasn't. None of what Weasley was saying was true. "You don't know me. You haven't any idea what you're talking about. You're too stupid to even imagine what my life's like!"

Weasley's face had gone down a few hundred degrees and he was started to look more himself. His grip loosened on Draco, and then he let go completely. "Well, if you stop assuming what my life's like, I'll stop assuming what your life's like."

Weasley walked off in the direction of the entrance hall, and Draco headed back to his common room. Neither of them realized how true their assumptions were.

_**A/N-** R/R please! Tell me what you think, it'll motivate me! _


	2. Chapter Two

_**Summary:** Ron Weasley has always been left out, and the times he's been included he was always in the background. He needs an escape, and the perfect escape has been sneering at him for the past 6 years. The maliciously beautiful and manipulative Draco Malfoy will be the one to bring Ron out of his blind stupor, and Ron realizes that maybe having a simple life in the background wasn't such a bad idea after all.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I own the plot... but all the characters, places, creatures, and items belong to J.K. Rowling, and the lyrics belong to Brian Molko.  
**Notes:** Give credit to Placebo for this fanfic, because their songs definitely inspired me to write it. :)_

"Ron?"

Ron looked up from his plate to meet his sister's eyes. He couldn't talk, as his mouth was full of mashed potatoes, but he raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was a questioning look.

"What's going on with you and Harry and Hermione?" Ginny asked tentatively. "I mean, you're not sitting with them and you look kind of... mad."

He swallowed angrily, which he didn't know was possible. "It's really not your business, Ginny," he sneered.

"Well, I was just worried my brother's bed temper is going to lose him his only friends, that's all!" she said, her cheeks reddening.

"I have other friends!" Ron snapped, completely missing Ginny's point.

"Not friends like Harry and Hermione!"

"It's not my fault Harry's a backstabbing attention-starved little prat! You know he used his crazy 'everybody hates me' tactic to try to convince me he should be able to go out with Hermione?" Ron's voice was rising with every word and people were started to look at him.

"You kind of have to cut him a break, Ron."

"NO! He knew I liked her! He doesn't even understand why I'm mad!"

"Ron."

"Go away, Ginny," Ron grumbled angrily. He concentrated on his plate, red faced and fuming, until he heard her sigh and retreat. Realizing the argument had ended, people started to go back to their own conversations.

Minutes later, he still felt eyes on him. He looked up to meet Harry and Hermione's gaze. Hermione was biting her lip, and Harry looked angry. Ron glared at them, feeling the heat coming back to his face, and looked away.

He was so angry he couldn't even finish his chicken, which was slightly depressing because he loved chicken.

He stood up and left the Great Hall, passing some people in the corridors. He didn't notice any of them until he saw Malfoy. He was walking by himself, head down and arms folded. Suddenly Ron felt even angrier and passionate, feelings which he vented by shoving Malfoy to the ground.

"What's your problem, Weasley?" Malfoy said angrily, standing up.

"Don't be a prat, Malfoy."

"_I'm _the prat? You just pushed me for no reason!"

"I know you were about to say something about what happened at dinner just now," Ron said, Malfoy's feigned ignorance making him angrier.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. Ron hated when he did that, it made him feel stupid. "Weasley, I wasn't even there. I haven't been in the Great Hall since breakfast."

"Oh," Ron said, feeling even stupider.

"What'd you do, jump on the table and strip?" Malfoy asked, smirking. "Or did you flip out on Potter and Granger. Both would be equally entertaining."

Malfoy was mocking him. _'Just walk away,'_ he told himself, and started to leave.

"How does it feel to have no friends?" Malfoy said quietly, but Ron heard him so clearly it was painful. Somehow, it had more of an effect on him when Malfoy said it then when Ginny did.

"I don't know, Malfoy, you tell me," Ron said, mentally patting himself on the back for his comeback.

Malfoy scowled, obviously pissed his comment didn't have as much of an effect as he would've liked. Ron realized he loved having this kind of influence on Malfoy's mood, even without Harry and Hermione there.

"Oh please, Weasley. Back to the 'let's assume nobody likes poor old Malfoy' tactic? Please tell me you can do better."

"I would, but that would mean I'd be better at slinging words than you, wouldn't it? You always make fun of me for the same reasons."

Instead of the defensive glare Ron expected, Malfoy did some variation of a half-smile Ron had never seen on him before.

"You know Weasley, you're a lot more fun with Potter and Granger weighing you down. I guess without them you don't have to be the designated stupid sidekick," Malfoy said.

Before Ron could reply, Malfoy had already left, leaving Ron alone in the corridor.

It was late at night, and Ron was the only one left in the common room. He was sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire, huddled in a blanket and watching the flames flickering.

'_What if he wasn't lying? Was I always the stupid one? The clumsy sidekick, like the ones in all my comics?'_ Ron thought vehemently, the fire reflecting in his eyes making him look murderous. _'What if Harry and Hermione only kept me around because I made them look better by comparison? Maybe I am better off without them...'_

He stayed like that, mulling things over in his head, getting angrier and angrier at Harry and Hermione with every crackle the fire made. By the time the fire burned out, he felt like his friendship with them had burned out too.

When he finally went upstairs and glanced at Harry's sleeping form, he didn't feel guilty about their fight at all. He laid down in his bed and relived every time Harry had used him, thought lowly of him, and fought with him. Each time they had come around and each time Ron had forgiven him. But this wasn't unknowingly participating in the Triwizard Tournament; this was knowingly taking the one person Ron had ever really felt something for.

The next morning, Ron caught Malfoy outside the Great Hall. "Can I talk to you?" he asked quietly.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, and Crabbe and Goyle looked more confused than usual. After a moment, Malfoy waved a hand and Crabbe and Goyle went into the Hall.

"What?"

"Walk with me," Ron said, starting to walk away. Malfoy followed, and Ron couldn't help but smile a little. They walked in silence until they were out of earshot from everyone. "What did you mean?" Ron finally said.

"What? About what?"

"What you said last night."

"What?"

"I think we should lay off the whats."

"Wha-"

"Last night you said... that I was more fun without Harry and Hermione. That I wasn't stupid without them," Ron said, finally getting out what he was trying to say and realizing how dumb it sounded outside his head.

"I wasn't serious, Weasley."

"But I was thinking about it, and you were right. I was always the clumsy sidekick with them, and when I fought with you last night, I felt liberated somehow. Like I could keep up the comeback game and not hit you."

Malfoy was staring at him, looking taken aback. Ron stared back, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He supposed it was because he sounded really stupid. He waited for the trademark snide remark.

"Wow, Weasley," '_here it comes._' "I never thought you'd actually admit Potter and Granger were the worst things that ever happened to you. Although, that's not saying much, since nothing much happened to you before Potter came along."

Ron ignored the last remark. "So I really am better off without them?"

"I don't see why you need me to tell you that," Malfoy replied. Ron noticed Malfoy started picking at the cuffs of his sleeves. "That's not to say that you're better than you were. You're still poor and annoying, you know."

With one last look of contempt, Malfoy walked away. Ron decided that it was a lot harder to get anything nice out of him than he thought. But for some reason, he still wanted to try.

He didn't know why he wanted to talk to Malfoy, he realized as he took his seat next to Seamus at the breakfast table. As he ate, he kept involuntarily looking at Malfoy across the hall. He felt weird, and he couldn't stop thinking about what Malfoy had said to him the night before. And he couldn't get the expression he had out of his head. It was the closest thing to a smile he'd ever seen on Malfoy. It was really different, and surprised all the anger out of Ron. He wanted it to happen again, and he couldn't explain why, no matter how much he tried.

He wondered why Malfoy was so jittery. He kept glancing around and hadn't touched his food. Ron thought of him picking at the cuffs of his sleeves, and wondered if that was some sort of nervous habit. He'd never noticed it before. His thoughts went back to the first day back, when Malfoy was stark white and staring at nothing.

'_Something must be up with him,' _he decided.

He made a mental note to consult Hermione on this, as she'd be able to figure it out better than anyone. Then he realized he wasn't speaking to her, and was brought down from his good mood. He sighed; he was doing such a good job not thinking about them, too. Thinking about Malfoy distracted him from thinking about Harry and Hermione.

Malfoy looked at him just then, and Ron caught his eye. He held his gaze, and any and all thoughts of Harry and Hermione were pushed to the back of his head. He realized that Malfoy didn't have his trademark sneer on his face. In fact, he didn't have much of an expression at all. He was just staring, and Ron was sure he looked the same way.

__

It was three weeks before Ron got the chance to talk to Malfoy again.

"What do you want, Weasley?" he said, but it wasn't annoyed so much as questioning.

Ron watched him stupidly, as if Malfoy had just slapped him. He realized he really didn't have the slightest clue as to what he wanted. They stared at each other, both of them trying to figure out why Ron had pulled Malfoy aside. After a minute, Malfoy dropped his gaze and left.

Transfiguration went by slowly; even McGonagall's voice seemed to be going in slow motion. All Ron could think about was Malfoy. He wondered if maybe he was talking to him so much because he seemed to be the only person who _would _talk to him. He thought that maybe he was trying to use Malfoy as a filler for Harry and Hermione's absence. Everyone's absence, actually, as even Ginny was on their side. Everyone kept telling him he was being irrational, and maybe he was, but he couldn't help being so angry and jealous.

Somehow, the more the thought about it, the more it seemed like Malfoy was the only person who'd understand where he was coming from. Being fed up with Harry's special treatment and having everyone gang up on him all the time.

That evening, Ron found it was a lot easier to concentrate on his homework without Harry and Hermione around. Whether it was that Harry wasn't distracting him, or knowing Hermione wasn't there to help him that made it easier to work he didn't know, but he zipped through his Potions assignment within twenty minutes. He was working diligently, and by eight o'clock he was bored and doodling.

"Ron?" he heard. He looked up to see Hermione standing in front of his table looking anxious.

"Can I help you?" he said dully.

"Ron, I..." she started. Ron felt a knot in his stomach form upon seeing the tears shining in her eyes. "I don't want you to be mad at me, or Harry. We... I miss you. Harry's still mad at you, but he doesn't understand... I know why you'd be mad and I'm very sorry but I hope that we can still be friends," she said this all very quickly. "Of course, I understand if you still want to keep hating me."

Ron stared at her, contemplating whether to forgive her or not. He was still mad, and heartbroken, but he wasn't about to say so with her crying and begging him for forgiveness.

"Bugger..." he muttered. "Alright, Hermione."

"Really?" she said, smiling through her tears.

"Yeah, why not... not like you really did anything wrong, right?" he said. "But don't expect me to start gal palling with you when Harry's around."

"Ok," she said, and started to turn around. She paused, and turned back to him. "Ron, have you finished your homework?"

"What?"

"You're sitting there doodling when you should be doing Professor Snape's assignment," she said matter-of-factly. It astounded Ron how she could skip the uncomfortable 'on good terms but still awkward' phase of being friends again and go right to the homework badgering.

"I've already done it," he said simply. He smirked at her look of complete and utter shock.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I've done it all already," he said before she could ask him about any other assignments. "I've... er... had a lot of time on my hands."

"Right," she smiled warmly. "Well, I'm off to bed! Good night, Ron!" she said brightly, and kissed the top of his head before bounding up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

Ron was surprised to find that he didn't turn red. In fact, the kiss didn't even phase him like it would've a few weeks ago. He sighed, shoved everything back into his school bag, and went upstairs. He fell asleep to Neville's snores, pleased with himself. He got one of his friends back without even trying. He decided that he liked the feeling of not being the one to ask for forgiveness, and that if Harry wanted his friendship back then he'd have to be the one licking Ron's shoes for a change.

The next morning, he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast only to see Hermione sitting with Harry. She waved to him, but he just scowled.

'_Of course,' _he thought icily as Harry smirked at him. _'Doesn't look like I'll be spending much time with her after all.'_

Ron stood by the door to an empty classroom, waiting for Malfoy. He knew he'd turn up, alone, because he knew that Malfoy hadn't been going to dinner lately. Sure enough, the pale boy came along, head down and biting his lip. He didn't even see Ron, and when he grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the classroom, Malfoy gave a small yelp of surprise. Ron smiled, deciding that Malfoy should be caught off his guard more often.

"Weasley! What-"Malfoy started, but Ron cut him off.

"Just shut up, Malfoy, for once," Ron said.

"Don't tell me to shut up!" Malfoy said defensively, a pink tinge appearing in his cheeks.

"Fine, don't shut up. Just listen to me."

Malfoy leaned against the wall of the classroom and folded his arms. "Ok. Talk."

"I'm friends with Hermione again. She apologized last night and I forgave her, but I hardly got to talk to her today because Harry's always there and I didn't forgive him. I mean, if he wants to be my friend he's going to be the one begging not me. It's frustrating, you know? Like, I doubt he'll come crawling to me because of his ego. I feel like you're the only one who knows what I'm talking about. Your frustration with Harry... I mean, it's weird. I hate you so much but I feel like we're kindred spirits or something. At first I thought I was only talking to you because I was using you as a filler for them since you were the only person who'd talk to me, even if it was all snide comments. But now that I have Hermione back, kind of, I still like... want to talk to you," Ron rattled on in one breath, stammering and tripping over his words.

"Weasley, _what _are you talking about?" Malfoy said, clearly not understanding a word Ron said.

"I can't explain it," Ron muttered. He bit his lip and looked at Malfoy, who was staring at him looking confused. He sighed and walked up to him.

It was as if it was in slow motion. Ron put his hand on Malfoy's face and brushed his hair away from his eyes. He didn't even know what he was doing, he felt like he couldn't control himself as he leant down and pressed his lips against Malfoy's. He felt the other boy tense up out of shock, and then slowly relax and lean into the kiss.

Ron felt high and light-headed, feelings he'd only had twice before in his life. When he'd won Gryffindor the final match in fifth year, and when Fleur Delacour kissed his cheek after the second task in fourth year.

They'd only been kissing for about ten seconds, though, before Malfoy's hands were on Ron's chest pushing him away.

"What the fuck are you trying to pull, Weasley?" he spat, his cheeks pink and his eyes cold. He glared at Ron for a few seconds, then yanked the door open and left, slamming the door behind him.

"What _was_ I trying to pull?" Ron asked the empty classroom.

He'd just kissed Draco Malfoy. He _kissed Draco Malfoy_... and loved every second of it. He didn't know why he did it. It felt weird admitting he liked it, even to himself, like it shouldn't have happened. He knew he was completely crazy to have done it, possibly even delusional, but Malfoy had kissed him back.

He kissed him back and then got mad about it as if Ron had broken some ancient law of the universe._ 'That bi-polar little prick!' _Ron thought angrily_. 'He's probably off crying to Snape that I molested him or something!'_

Ron growled and kicked the wall, sending a wave of pain through his foot.

"F-FUCK!" he cried out, grabbing his foot.

_**A/N-** R/R please! Tell me what you think, it'll motivate me._


	3. Chapter Three

_**Summary:** Ron Weasley has always been left out, and the times he's been included he was always in the background. He needs an escape, and the perfect escape has been sneering at him for the past 6 years. The maliciously beautiful and manipulative Draco Malfoy will be the one to bring Ron out of his blind stupor, and Ron realizes that maybe having a simple life in the background wasn't such a bad idea after all.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I own the plot... but all the characters, places, creatures, and items belong to J.K. Rowling, and the lyrics belong to Brian Molko.  
**Notes:** Give credit to Placebo for this fanfic, because their songs definitely inspired me to write it. :)_

_**IMPORTANT NOTE!:** This chapter originally contained an explicit sex scene, which was edited out because I'm a good girl and follow 's rules. :D BUT you may access the full chapter at my FanFiction/Art livejournal. The username is ficsnartjcv (with underscores between 'fics' and 'n' and 'n' and 'art'. :)_

'_Wake up. It's your birthday, after all. People clinging to you more than normal, presents that aren't nearly as extravagant as you would prefer... What reason do you have _not _to open your eyes?' _Draco thought to himself warily, burying his face into his pillow. He didn't want to get up, but the emptiness of the dormitory told him he had to. Besides, his comforter was hardly even on his butt, and he was freezing.

He groaned and sat up. He looked around, hoping no one was there to see him with messy hair and boxers that were riding obnoxiously low on his hips. Upon seeing that no one was there to bear witness, he got up and went about his morning routine.

He paused at the mirror as he walked by it and stared at the boy reflected back at him. _'I hope this thing is faulty, because I look way too thin,'_ he thought, his fingers touching his ribs. _'Well, what did you expect, stupid? You've been skiving off meals to avoid social situations. That's not to say anyone's noticed, though.'_

What about Weasley?

'_He's left me alone for nearly a month, though. He's obviously stopped noticing,'_ Draco found himself thinking bitterly. What was he doing, practically cursing Weasley for not paying attention to him?

He glared at his mirror self, as if it was the one making the accusations and thinking about Weasley. He turned away and grabbed a set of robes.

At breakfast, Draco found a pile of presents and an owl at his seat. The owl, obviously, was from his parents, and came bearing his present. The package was shaped like a book, which Draco didn't find amusing. He took the note and package from the owl, which took the opportunity to leave, and opened the letter.

_Draco,_

_I hope this book will help you during your term to become better at serving your Lord. He'll be most pleased to find you've learned the things enclosed in it, and will make a good name for you among his other servants._

_Regards,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_P.S- Your mother sends her best wishes._

Draco frowned. A book on the dark arts. Every boy's dream. He put the package in his school bag, not wanting to open it in front of prying eyes. He sighed and opened his other gifts (socks from both Crabbe and Goyle, who'd never been creative when it came to, well, anything, and a leather bound journal from Pansy, who claimed he looked like he needed to write down his feelings).

On the way to class, Draco passed Weasley in the hall. The tall redhead simply muttered a "happy birthday" and slipped a note into Draco's hand as he walked by, the simple action leaving Draco in a state of shock.

_'How did he know it was my birthday? Probably the presents, right? This means he's given up on leaving me alone again,' _Draco thought, half panicking, half annoyed. He looked at the note in his hand. He found himself blinking at it, wondering what it could possibly say, before it occurred to him that he was allowed to open it. So he did.

_Meet me on the second floor after class, near where the Chamber of Secrets messages were._

Draco bit his lip. He couldn't go, nor he didn't want to go. But he did at the same time, and he didn't know why. Everything had been getting progressively more confusing since he got back to school. Every little thing added onto his paranoia, and Weasley's apparent infatuation with him didn't help at all.

And yet, after class, Draco found himself standing by the door to the girls' lavatory on the second floor waiting for Weasley. He bit his lip again, a habit he'd picked up recently that he wasn't fond of. He could just leave before Weasley showed up, he knew that, but somehow his body wasn't letting him.

Just when Draco was hoping it was a joke and that Weasley was never going to come, the Gryffindor turned up and beckoned for Draco to follow him into the girls' bathroom.

"Weasley, why are you bringing me in _here_?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose at the dirty, musty bathroom.

"No one comes in here."

"And why would _you_ know that?"

"This is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. And keep your voice down, she's quite moody," Weasley said, looking around for the ghost girl.

There was a long bout of silence that was extremely uncomfortable. Draco avoided looking at Weasley, who obviously wasn't avoiding staring at Draco.

"Weasley, what are you doing?" Draco finally asked. He couldn't take it any longer. "Why are you so keen on getting in my pants?"

Weasley, to Draco's surprise, laughed. "Who said anything about getting in anyone's pants?"

Draco frowned, heat coming into his cheeks. "You pretty much did when you kissed me!"

"That was a month ago."

"Then why are you bringing me here now?" Draco asked. He couldn't stand how thick Weasley was at the moment.

"I don't know, really. I don't seem to know much of anything anymore. I haven't talked to my best mate in nearly two months, and I suppose it's having a bad effect on my head," Weasley said, grinning at him.

"So you're saying you'd have to be insane to want anything to do with me?" Draco said heatedly.

"Yeah, pretty much," Weasley said, reaching out to touch Draco's face.

Draco found himself involuntarily leaning into Weasley's touch, and allowing the taller boy to draw him closer and brush his lips against Draco's own. He felt his heart form into a knot and tighten considerably.

_'Ok, so you're in the middle of a girls' bathroom and Weasley's got his arms around you... and you like it. Sorry, but I'm having trouble making sense out of that,' _his brain told him. He agreed with himself, of course, it didn't make sense.

He pulled away again. "Come on, Malfoy! You can't keep running away from something I know you don't want to run away from!" Weasley said. Draco gaped at him. "Look, you kissed back. Both times. You can't pretend you're the victim when you kiss back, I don't know if you realize that."

"I..."

"You're just afraid."

"What?" Draco snapped. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Maybe not of me, but you're afraid of this. I know you're afraid of things you can't control. Things you don't know about. You have no idea what'll happen if you let it, that's why you pulled away. You can't control something like this, Malfoy. You're scared of it!" Weasley ranted, each word making Draco angrier and more defiant.

"I'm _not _afraid of that stuff!" Draco said, unable to come up with a better retaliation.

"Yes you are. Just admit it!"

"NO!"

At this outburst, a sudden wail sounded through the bathroom, and the ghost of a pudgy girl in glasses floated through a stall door. "What are you doing in here, making so much noise?" she said in a very whiney voice, as if all she did was complain and moan. This, Draco realized, was probably why she was called Moaning Myrtle.

"Leave us alone, Myrtle," Weasley said, not taking his eyes off of Draco.

"Oh, I get it! No one wants Myrtle around, ever! Even when they invade my bathroom, they expect me to leave them alone!" she said, her eyes welling up with silver tears. She floated away, sobbing obnoxiously.

"See why I told you to keep your voice down? You-"Weasley started, but was cut off by Draco furiously pressing his lips against his. The force of Draco practically jumping on him knocked Weasley back a few steps, and they toppled onto the floor, but Draco didn't mind at all. He was having fun soaking in Weasley's shock

After a moment, Draco realized that they were in a very improper position, and stood up hastily. He brushed off his robes and picked up his school bag. "See, Weasley? I'm hardly afraid," he said.

With one last look at the still shocked redhead, Draco left the bathroom and practically ran through the halls to his common room.

"What was I thinking?" he burst out after he slammed the dormitory door shut. "What was he thinking, saying things like that? He probably knew I'd get mad and do something stupid... idiot Weasley!"

He absent-mindedly touched his lips, and found himself sliding down the doorframe. He was suddenly sitting on the ground smiling stupidly and he couldn't explain why.

"Maybe kissing him is a better way to vent than getting into fights with him," he muttered and then scoffed at himself.

"I have something that would make you choose suicide over me," Draco told Weasley the next day, after he'd led the redhead into an empty classroom.

"Really?" said Weasley, obviously disbelieving.

Draco bit his lip, slowly rolling up his sleeve. He didn't think this was a good idea at all, but the loud mouth in him needed to show _someone _the Mark, and if it was going to get Weasley off his back it was killing two birds in one stone, right?

Weasley wasn't off his back yet; rather he was just staring at the ugly black thing on Draco's arm.

"Why?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Why? Weasley, I don't see how you could be surprised."

Weasley grabbed Draco's wrist, and Draco gave up struggling after a minute of not having any effect on Weasley's grip. "I don't know... I guess I kind of thought you'd be too much of a wimp to actually do it."

Draco was astonished. He'd expected something more along the lines of him suddenly being a good guy. Then what _had _been said sunk in. "I'm _not _a wimp, Weasley! Of course I'd do it! My father expected it of me!"

"Oh, so it's his fault then? I should've known you're only doing this for daddy dearest," Weasley spat.

Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times, suspecting he looked something like a fish. He had no idea how to respond to that, as it had never occurred to him that saying no to his father was an option.

"Is this why you've been so jittery?" Weasley asked, still holding Draco's wrist.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked in a way that told Weasley he knew exactly what he meant.

"Not eating, biting your lip, jumping and freaking out whenever anyone touches you," Weasley said.

Draco wondered who else had noticed these things.

"Now, about this suicide thing," Weasley said, suddenly smiling. "I think I'll pass up on that one."

He pulled Draco's arm closer to his face, and brought his lips down on the Mark. Draco let out a small sound of surprise, half at the shock of what Weasley was doing, and half at how good it felt.

"Ron..." He started, and immediately stopped, eyes widening. Weasley's gaze shot to Draco's face.

"You just called me Ron," he said quietly.

All Draco could do was nod weakly. Oh, he'd done it now. His plan had completely backfired. Not only did Ron, err... Weasley, seemingly think the Mark was somehow kinky, Draco had called him by his first name.

As Draco came back to reality, he realized that Weasley had his arms around his waist and he had his own arms around the redhead's neck. He looked up at his enemy's face and starting laughing, thinking that this really wasn't so bad.

"What are you laughing about?" Weasley asked, laughing a little himself.

"I don't know," Draco said, smiling genuinely for the first time in months. "It's just funny, that's all. All of this. It's as if the world kind of... turned upside down."

"Yeah, it did. Alternate universe or something... I should be doing homework with Harry and Hermione, but instead I'm in an empty classroom about to snog Draco Malfoy... I don't mind though, I rather like this," Weasley said.

"About to snog? You're confidant today, Weasley. You actually think I'll let you this time?" Draco asked, knowing fully that he would.

Weasley smiled and leaned down to kiss Draco. The blonde leaned up into the kiss, realizing just how tall Weasley was, as he had to practically stand on his toes to comfortably kiss him properly.

"Draco," Weasley muttered, pushing Draco up against the wall. He pinned Draco there with his hips, which Draco didn't mind at all, as they were both already turned on. Weasley's hands made their way to the clasps on Draco's robes, and his mouth found it way to Draco's neck.

"Ron... Weasley..." he moaned, throwing his head back and not caring when he hit the back of his head on the wall. "Ron. Ron!"

"What?"

"I... we can't do this here," Draco said, slipping out from between Ron and the wall. "Or now. Or at all."

"Not this again," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "You can't say you don't want to do thus. I know you do."

He gave a significant look to Draco's lower half. "Come off it, Weasley!" Draco said angrily, wishing he had more layers covering himself. "Anyone would get off on that! I meant that it's impossible for there to be anything between us, not even random sex."

"Why's it impossible?"

"You're not honestly this stupid, are you Weasley? We're from completely different social classes! We're from completely different... everything!"

"Romeo and Juliet managed to look passed that," Ron pointed out.

"And look where that got them!"

They stared at each other for a moment, both trying to make the other back down. Of course, Draco was losing because he didn't actually want to stop.

"Ok," Draco said finally. "What do you think we should do? Without getting caught by anyone?"

Ron thought for a moment, and then his face broke out into a wide grin. "You know the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor? The one with the trolls?"

"...Yeah," Draco said uncertainly. They were going to have sex by a tapestry of a man trying to train trolls for the ballet?

"Meet me there after dinner," Ron said, moving to leave the room.

"Wait!" Draco said. "What are you planning?"

"You'll see."

Dinner went by more slowly than ever. Draco's nerves were escalating with every tick of his internal clock. _'Ok, so I'm going to have sex with Weasley. Who would've thought? Not me, anyway. Oh for the love of Merlin! What's this going to mean? We certainly wont be... together, right? Far from it, actually, since we still technically hate each other's guts. We're just enemies with benefits. Is he expecting to top? He seems like the type... well he's going to have to sacrifice that role. Although I suppose it wouldn't be so bad... I'll have to do less work. It'd hurt though. Pain is bad. But isn't pain good in this situation? Oh fuck, I'm so obviously a virgin! What if I'm so obvious he notices? Oh come off it, he's probably a virgin too. If Granger doesn't split her legs for him, who would? Oh yeah...Then what does that make me? God, I'm more pathetic than Granger!'_

By the time the food disappeared and everyone was leaving, Draco had hardly stomached three bites of mashed potatoes and could practically hear himself snapping. But he made his way to the seventh floor anyway, after going to his dormitory and making himself decent.

"Hey! What're you doing up here?" one of the Gryffindor prefects said indignantly when he saw Draco.

"Nothing!" Draco squeaked. _'Shit. Compose yourself!' _"Nothing that concerns you, anyway, you stupid little Gryffindor. Is it so bad to take a self guided tour of the castle every once in a while?"

The prefect glared at him. "Alright then," he said and walked away.

When he reached the tapestry, he could hardly believe his eyes. There was Weasley, standing by a large polished door that Draco was positive he'd never seen before. Weasley smiled at him, and Draco's heart jumped. He decided he was losing his mind. He shouldn't be reacting to Weasley like this.

"That... that door wasn't there before."

"It's called the Room of Requirement. I'm sure the founders created it for students to have torrid sexcapades in, though," Weasley said, laughing at Draco's confused look.

"But it wasn't there before."

"You have to concentrate really hard on what you want when you're walking by it, otherwise it doesn't show up. Now come on," he said, opening the door to let Draco in.

They entered the room, and Draco was shocked to see it was equipped with a bed.

"The great thing about this room, is that it gives you anything you could possibly ask for," Weasley said from behind him. "If I wanted handcuffs..."

A pair of handcuffs appeared on the bed.

"It would give me handcuffs," Draco could feel Weasley smirking. "But we won't be using those. Unless you want to, of course."

Draco turned around. "I'd never trust you with those things."

"I figured as much," Weasley said, looking slightly crestfallen. He then proceeded to grab Draco's hand and lead him over to the bed, which he cleared of the handcuffs.

_'Ok... now how do I start? Do I start? I mean, he brought me here, he should start. Yeah, I'll just...'_ Draco's thoughts were cut off by Weasley kissing him, taking up where they left off earlier. Draco decided he should stop thinking so much, and let Weasley take off his robes. The sun was setting outside the window, and everything was in shades of red, making Weasley's hair look more vibrant than normal. Draco ran his hands through the redhead's hair, and then allowed them to move down to the clasps of his robes.

Afterward, Weasley rolled over onto his side and pulled Draco to him. Draco found that Weasley's neck was very comfortable, and decided that their bodies were made to fit together like this. They laid in silence, the only sound being their breathing, and the only movement being the rise and fall of their chests.

Weasley had one of his hands around Draco's wrist, and was rubbing his forearm idly with his thumb. "What would you say if..." he said suddenly. "...If I said I'd take the Mark."

_'Well that was random,'_ Draco thought idly. Then his eyes snapped open with realization. "Wait...what?"

"Well, I don't know. Harry doesn't need me; Hermione obviously doesn't need me..."

"And you think I do?" Draco snapped.

Weasley smirked. "Well, that's what you said while we were shagging."

"Completely different situation," Draco said, appalled at Weasley's bluntness. "Completely different."

"So? What do you say?"

"I say you're incredibly stupid and that sex is clouding your thought process. What on earth makes you think that you should bow down to You-Know-Who for me? More importantly, why on earth would you bring this up _now_? It's the most random, inconsiderate thing to talk about now."

"I don't know. I was touching your Mark and I just kind of thought of it."

Draco sighed, got up, and stared picking up his clothes. He could tell what was his and what was Weasley's even in the dark, which, he noted, was pretty sad. "It's late."

"Draco."

"Don't call me that," Draco snapped, putting on his robes.

"What? You we calling me Ron just a little while ago!" Weasley said, sitting up,

"It was a mistake. This whole thing was a mistake."

"No, it wasn't," Weasley said, now standing up

"It was," Draco said, and walked up to the redhead. "And I knew it the whole time, too. I just had the audacity not to say something."

Then he left. He knew it probably wasn't the best idea to walk out on Weasley, as he could easily use what just happened as blackmail.

"Mr. Malfoy," he heard from behind him as he passed the entrance hall. He turned around to see Professor Snape at the foot of a stairwell.

Draco's mind raced. _'Oh shit. I'm caught. I'm caught. And I must look a mess, and even worse... smell like sex. Shit!'_

"Come with me," the man said simply, and Draco followed him down into the dungeons, passed the Slytherin common room, and into his office.

Snape sat down behind his desk and gestured for Draco to take a seat as well. Once seated, Snape began. "How would you like to work for Dumbledore, Draco?"

"What?"

"Spy for him. Give him information on the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters."

The world stopped turning and Draco could feel his heart stop and his brain explode.

They knew.

_**Author's Note: **You'll notice the absence of lyrics. That's because I had second thoughts on making this a songfic, because it's too hard. So I'm just writing a normal old fanfic. lol... R/R please! It makes me feel warm inside! :D_


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